Grief is a process that requires more than just time
Sometimes it seems like mental health issues are imaginary or even faux to the world. Nothing could be further from the truth than reality. And just to be clear, no one who is stricken with mental issues would pretend to undergo such suffering.
This subject matter is featured in the epilogue of my newly released book, “Grief Doesn’t Do Math.” Grief and loss are the great equalizer of our lives; we never know when they will arrive but arrive they surely will and do.
With this project, I seek to normalize and openly verbalize the grief process — bringing it out of the murky shadows for full-on, wide-open discussion. What’s there to hide; we all experience grief and loss at some point.
How verbalizing the grief process can help those in pain
Opening up our souls can sound alarming on the surface. This requires much vulnerability from us— a willingness to be open-hearted. What puts salve on the wound is empathy from others. What embeds and emboldens the hurt is disregard and dismissiveness from others.
Oftentimes, it seems like ignorance prevails with those who try to slap a Band-aid on it with unfruitful comments. That shuts grievers down like a two-finger snap. While the challenge to being vulnerable is real, the path to some semblance of healing can be revealed with sharing.
I saw this in all five of my internships at Vanderbilt, from Massachusetts to Memphis. People often desire to share and be heard, but they must have an empathetic person present.
As I’ve found in my research for almost a decade: sometimes religious people say the most unhelpful things; what lies dormant under our bed frames eventually creates havoc.
All those backed up emotions just keep pouring into the Coke bottle, until one day it simultaneously implodes and explodes leaving glass fracturing into every wall. People are injured.
There is a balm, though it will not erase the grief. Time does not heal all wounds. That I am sure of. I’ve lost nonliving and living, and the pain seems to only intensify. If we are able to open up our hearts and let those feelings soar like an eagle, then we can be free.
I am personally grateful for the ultrabrave Olympians who, so graciously forthcoming, shared their mental health struggles. Sincerely — as a chaplain, a mom and an author — I believe this makes the world a better place.
Mental health is a function of the brain. If we were diagnosed diabetic, we would be given insulin. If we had high cholesterol, we would be prescribed a statin. Our brains are also inside of our bodies and operate according to our brain chemistry—for better or worse.
Mental health issues are absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. It’s simply another organ in our body that needs balancing. As a fellow sufferer, I advise us all to carry our disease in our brains as a badge of honor.
Let’s keep keeping on with hearts wide open to soar.
Heather H. Burwell, M.div., is the author “Grief Doesn’t Do Math.” Learn more at: www.griefdoesntdomath.com